Rating: 
Summary: Whose rose is this?....
Review: Thomas Christopher, a garden writer with a great deal of experience went looking for wild roses. His trip took him all over the United States from Connecticut to Texas to California to the American South. He discovered a unique fellowship of individuals who over the years have grown and thus preserved what are known as 'old roses'. I happen to grow Blanc Double de Courbet in my own garden, so was a little annoyed to read that one of Mr. Christopher's interviewees (Mike Lowe of Nashua NH) did not particularly like this particular Rugosa rose. I agree the blossoms are not very tidy as they wither on the plant, but cut a few of these roses in full bloom and bring them in the house and you won't care about the faded blossoms (which are more scented than some of the modern hybrids in full bloom). I like to place a vase of these white roses next to my reading chair. The scent is so fabulous that from time to time I become aware of it no matter how engrossing the book. Christopher interviews folks in California who live in the old gold mine areas where everything is in shambles except the roses growing madly in the abandoned gardens. He interviews elderly Black women who have grown old roses abandoned by their employers who took up with the new hybrids. The true identity of the roses is often unknown (or was not known before modern genetics) and thus the roses have acquired the names of the persons who 'saved' them. For example, one rose named 'Miss Mary Minor' was later identified as 'Souvenir de la Malmaison'. Malmaison, as anyone who grows roses knows was the garden of Josephine Bonaparte. All garden writers who tell the tale like to remind readers that even the British during their battles with Napoleon accommodated Malmaison. Josephine was able to maintain her garden and stay in contact with British Rosarians in spite of the sea battles that raged around her. Which leads to the decision of the United States to name the rose as the national flower (the rose is the national flower of England not France). Some of us are old enough to remember Senator Dirksen lauding the marigold and nominating it for the honor of national flower. Chistopher reminds the reader that like Benjamin Franklin and the turkey, Dirksen was doomed to fail. In the end, the US congress chose the rose. Some us like to imagine the American rose is a wild five-petaled rose and not one of those silly hybrids found in florist's shops.
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